One Degree of Separation Page 9

  When Marian turned to wave at a passing taxi, Liddy set aside feeling foolish and said just loud enough to be heard, “Need another lift?”

  Marian wheeled around. Liddy saw the glitter of tears across her cheeks and something inside her melted.

  “I can’t make a habit of this,” Marian croaked. She cleared her throat. “I forgot to ask anybody for a ride to my car.”

  “And you didn’t want to cry in front of Amy and Hemma,” Liddy prompted softly.

  “Damn, you’re way too observant.” Marian scrubbed her cheeks with one hand. “Good thing you’re not sticking around.”

  “My car’s on the street. Linn? At least I think that was it.” They walked in silence until Marian said, “Thanks for my tampons. I actually need them.”

  “Well, otherwise why buy them? Oh, damn it all!” Liddy had to jump twice to snatch the parking ticket off her windshield. “Second one!”

  “You could park on the ramp,” Marian suggested.

  “So I’ve been told, but what the heck is ‘the ramp’? I didn’t see a store like that on the map. There aren’t any signs.”

  “The ramp,” Marian repeated. “Parking ramps. There are several.”

  “Do you mean a parking garage? I saw the sign for one, but it’s attached to the hotel. I figured it’d cost an arm and a leg.” Marian shrugged. “I doubt by California standards it does. A couple of dollars for an evening.”

  “Oh.”

  “Otherwise, you can expect a lot of those.” She pointed at the ticket. “I.C. is notorious for the number of parking tickets it gives out. College town.”

  “Okay.” Hell, who would have thought Iowa fucking City was so secretive about places to park, Liddy thought. “I didn’t think I needed a local guide to Iowa City, but obviously I do. You should put your services on eBay.”

  “If you were a student you would have received the standard ori-entation.” Marian shrugged again.

  Liddy watched as Marian tossed her backpack up into the car, then hauled herself into the passenger seat. For a moment she thought she might have to lend a hand, which made her look again at various parts of Marian where a push would help.

  Marian was shapely, for a librarian. Hell, she was shapely for any profession.

  Flustered, she forgot to trigger the steps on her side and had to haul herself up with less than her usual aplomb.

  “Show-off,” Marian said.

  They stared at each other by the dim illumination of the dash-board lights. Damn, Liddy thought. I am not lusting after Marian the Librarian, swear to freakin’ god. Why would I? I hardly know her. Why am I trembling?

  “The idiot behind me has me blocked,” she muttered.

  Marian glanced back and said, “Those big SUVs. How rude.” Liddy snorted, put the Hummer in drive, and went smoothly over the curb in front of her. “I like these kinds of parking places.” Was that a giggle? Had Marian the Librarian just giggled? Her eyes were dark and glittering. Liddy realized she’d give a million bucks—and the Hummer—to know what went on inside Marian the Librarian’s head.

  Marian fought back another uncharacteristic chortle. She was almost hysterical. She’d been crying all day, and it suddenly didn’t help that Liddy Peel seemed to have the ability to make her laugh.

  “Do you know the way to Wal-Mart?” She hoped her car was still okay.

  “Honey,” Liddy drawled, “I’m a Wal-Mart femme.”

  “Femme?” Marian looked Liddy up and down. “The car sort of counteracts the femme energy.”

  “No reason a femme can’t have butch toys.”

  “Okay, I agree with that.” Marian kept her tone light. “Ellie is the highest femme I know, and yet she looks good in work overalls and a plumber’s tool belt. Some women actually find a femme in butch trappings very sexy.”

  Liddy opened and closed her mouth, then finally said, “I could pull a logging truck with this baby.”

  “Why?”

  “What a good question. I don’t know how to do it, either.” Reassured that Liddy wasn’t into random acts of machismo, Marian asked, “What’s a Wal-Mart femme?”

  “A whole lot less expensive to live with than a Saks Fifth Avenue femme.”

  Hell, she was going to laugh again, and if she laughed she’d start to cry. “Makes sense to me. But if we’re going to Wal-Mart you should have turned at that light.”

  “Hell.” Liddy braked and swung into the middle turning lane.

  “Sorry about this, but I’m from California.” Marian had just enough time to grab the arm rest before Liddy whipped into a U-turn. Liddy certainly knew how to drive, terrify-ing though it was.

  “Oh, fuck me! Fuck—is that a cop?”

  Marian glanced. “All I see is the bar of lights on top of the car, but, okay, now that they’re lit up, yes, I’d say that was a police car.” Liddy pulled over to the curb and fumbled in her front shorts pocket for her wallet.

  Trying to be helpful, Marian asked, “Can I get the registration out of the glove box?”

  “Sure,” Liddy muttered. She rolled down the window.

  Marian could hear only half the conversation, but Liddy was peppering each sentence with enough “sir” and “yes, officer” to please a drill sergeant. Liddy took the registration Marian held out, then opened the driver’s door.

  The officer stepped up on the running board to shine a flashlight inside. Liddy flipped a switch and the interior lights came on.

  After a moment, Marian said, “Oh, hey, Johnny.”

  “Friend of yours?” Johnny Trelow’s stern expression softened slightly.

  “Yeah. She’s from California. I should have warned her about U-turns. The law’s different here I’m sure.” Johnny stepped down to the pavement again and said sternly, “If you’ll promise me you’ll make her go to motor vehicles for a basic book—”

  “I’ll make sure she does,” Marian said solemnly. The noise Liddy let out was a blend of irritation and relief.

  “Next time,” he added, “go around the block if you have to.”

  “Yes, officer,” Liddy said meekly.

  As his boots crunched back to the car behind them, Liddy closed the door. “What just happened?”

  “Johnny and I were in the last year of the history program together. I eventually became a librarian and he became a cop.”

  “History degree? Ah, now that’s useful. I’ve got one of those myself.”

  “There ya go. Smart career move.”

  “Tell me about it.” Liddy’s sigh was heavy.

  “That’s why I’m getting a second master’s in library and information science.”

  “That’s why I’m doing other people’s research for them. Why is he still there?”

  “Waiting for you to pull out into traffic again. For your safety.”

  “Hell. Okay. If I can stop shaking.”

  “Johnny’s not a redneck.”

  “I’m from Berkeley. All cops are bad, in theory.” Liddy carefully pulled out into traffic and only spoke after the patrol car passed them. Marian gave Johnny a cheery wave, which he acknowledged with two fingers to his brow.

  “I owe you big-time,” Liddy said.

  “It’s okay. He might not have written you a ticket anyway, given the out-of-state plates and that you weren’t being a jerk.”

  “My biological father may not have been around to teach me much, but he did impress upon me that being rude to a cop would only get you remembered in court.”

  “And he got you this car.”

  “Vehicle, please,” Liddy scolded.

  The laugh escaped before Marian could shut it down.

  “That’s better,” Liddy said. “Laughter is good for you.” Marian choked back the sob that followed. Her throat was very tight as she said, “So I’ve heard.”

  Liddy turned into the Wal-Mart lot and coasted to a stop behind the Beetle, now very lonely under the trees.

  “I think your car would fit in the cargo area of this one.” Another laugh bubbled
out and Marian dropped her head into her hands, choking between tears and hysteria.

  “You’re not okay, are you?”

  She shook her head. “But I will be.”

  “That’s the important part.”

  Marian struggled for a semblance of control. This was absurd, crying in front of a stranger. Something about Liddy made her feel safe enough to cry. “Have you ever had a balloon pop right in your face?”

  “Yeah.” Liddy’s tone indicated she didn’t understand the purpose of the question.

  “Dreams can be like that.”

  After a long silence, Liddy said quietly, “I don’t look forward to that happening to me, but I suppose it happens to everyone, eventually.”

  “I didn’t see this one coming.”

  “They seem so nice.”

  Alarmed that Liddy would figure out her secret, Marian tried desperately to pull herself together. “Great cooks. I’ll miss the free meals.”

  “Right.”

  “Thanks again.” She found her backpack on the floor and opened the door. “How do these steps work?”

  “Allow me, madam.” To Marian’s surprise, Liddy leapt out her door and hurried around the car. “You didn’t have to get out.” Liddy pressed a button for the steps and held up one hand like a footman. “Your Beetle awaits, milady.”

  “This is serious role reversal,” Marian muttered. She didn’t like being made to feel short, and the distance from the seat of the Hummer to the ground was intimidating. Besides, there was nothing a mildly shy, modestly butch and proudly independent woman objected to more than being helped out of a car.

  Not a car, she reminded herself, a VEE-hickle.

  Liddy held her hand for a moment longer than necessary. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Liddy still had her hand.

  They stood there for a minute. Marian began to think of ways to pull her hand free that wouldn’t be rude, then realized she didn’t necessarily want to hurry. Liddy made her laugh. And her hand felt exceedingly warm, in a most pleasant way.

  Finally, Liddy said shakily, “I’m not in the market.”

  “Neither am I,” Marian answered.

  When it was clear Liddy was going to kiss her, Marian felt as if another person had taken over. Inner Slut reminded her it had been years since she’d really been touched, and Inner Prude even admitted there was nothing wrong with a kiss between two unattached people.

  The first touch of Liddy’s lips sent what rationality she had left reeling. Sweet and firm, Liddy’s lips woke up nerves in the back of Marian’s legs she hadn’t felt since Robyn. No, she thought, get Robyn out of your head and kiss this woman properly. Kiss her ...

  Sweet lord, she smelled good. Very different from Hemma ...

  No, no, don’t think about Hemma, kiss this woman, the one in your arms.

  She didn’t remember exactly when she dropped the backpack and threw her arms around Liddy. She felt Liddy gasp, and their mouths opened to each other.

  Liddy’s tongue was direct and inviting, then playful. Marian kissed her in return, feeling woefully out of practice, but she felt a shiver run through Liddy before Liddy pulled away.

  “I swear,” Liddy said, “I did not mean to do that.”

  “Sorry?”

  Liddy’s arms went around her waist. Marian surrendered to a hungrier kiss, Liddy’s tongue teasing and dancing, leaving little doubt as to how agile it might be other places. She abruptly realized she was deeply aroused, the reality of which shocked her so much she pulled her head back. “I’m not like this, really.”

  “Neither am I.”

  The third kiss was as electric as the first two. Marian felt as if she’d never realized her mouth could be so alive, so aware. She’d been kissed before, but Liddy’s kisses seemed different. Very different.

  “Unbelievable,” Liddy murmured against her mouth.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t think—this isn’t what ...”

  “Me neither.”

  “I’m not and you’re not, and we’re not ...”

  “No, we’re not.” Marian gently pushed Liddy away. “But thank you. You’re good for my ego.”

  “Yeah. I mean, you’re good for mine.”

  “You must get lots of offers.” Marian immediately wished she hadn’t said that. It sounded like she was fishing for Liddy’s dating history.

  “Don’t flatter me.”

  “It’s a simple statement of fact. You probably get hit on a lot.” What Marian really wanted to ask was why Liddy was kissing her.

  Liddy took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll admit that’s true. But not by women with half a brain, usually.”

  Marian felt a deep rush of pleasure. She’d much rather be thought smart than cute. Then she remembered she was supposed to be heartbroken. Where had all the tears gone?

  She touched Liddy’s chin with her fingertips. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” Liddy’s grin was endearingly crooked.

  “See you around.” Marian was proud of herself that it wasn’t a question.

  “I’ll be coming to get that book you mentioned,” Liddy said as Marian unlocked her door. “Around one? Before I get some lunch?” Marian held back what surely would have been a silly schoolgirl simper and said instead, “One is always a good time for lunch.” She was certain that Liddy was watching her drive across the parking lot. When she reached the street she tooted the Beetle’s horn and heard an answering bellow from the Hummer.

  She laughed again, and noticed the moon had risen.

  Friday evening, June 6

  I’d have gone to bed with her. Not HER. Her. Liddy Peel. Except I’m bleeding like a stuck pig—what a gross expression. I never feel this way on Day 1. But I did and I do.

  What’s wrong with me? This morning I was too depressed to write and now I feel like I’m sailing on moonlight. Over a virtual stranger.

  This is how it happened with Robyn and I’m not making that mistake again.

  Crap on a biscuit. Did I stay in love with HER because she had no risk?

  How stupid is that?

  Great. Now I’m angry. What’s wrong with me?

  “I swear, Trombone, if you puke in my shoes again I’m giving you to a violin factory!”

  The Russian Blue gave Marian a withering look worthy of an empress before stalking out.

  Marian scraped the bottom of her favorite clog, then rinsed it under the kitchen tap. Perhaps she should put her shoes up on something. Sometimes Trombone was worse than a toddler.

  Professor Hill whuffled at her heels, then sniffed up the back of her legs. “What? Oh, smell something new?” Marian flushed.

  “That’s Liddy. I don’t think you’ll, well, maybe. I don’t know.” She poured out food for both animals and grabbed some crackers for herself. Dinner had been too long ago.

  Still muttering, she went up the stairs. Hill padded along behind her, his tail creating a breeze around Marian’s knees. Abruptly, she noticed the accumulated pet hair in the corners of each tread.

  Tomorrow morning, she thought, it was time to do some cleaning.

  She wearily stripped off her shirt and bra. Tomorrow morning, she recalled, she had volunteered for the early shift at the I-CARE

  breakfast. It sucked that it was her weekend to work. Cleaning would have to wait until Monday, her next day off. What a shame.

  The mirror was disappointingly the same. Her cheeks were still chipmunkish, her eyes still unremarkable, her lips still too thin.

  Those lips had kissed a virtual stranger tonight. Goosepimples blossomed all along her arms as she realized that a virtual stranger—an attractive, intelligent, witty stranger—had kissed her first. Had kissed her more than once.

  Neither of them was trying to have an affair, but still, being found worthy of such world-class kisses had felt truly magical. She didn’t have Ellie’s looks or personality, or Amy’s height and competence, not even Patty’s muscles or Wen’s
intuition. She didn’t have an herb shop and a kind soul, either. But Liddy had still kissed her. It didn’t make sense.

  It had felt wonderful.

  It was habit more than anything else that took her to the doorway of the spare room. After Robyn had destroyed her life she’d slept in this room to avoid Robyn’s scent and the memories of her body.

  Even when she finally went back to her own room, she still checked on Hemma and Amy every night.

  It had at first seemed like looking in on a secret world, one too fantastic to ever include her. Shocked by the violence of Robyn’s departure, she’d been comforted by the vision of a life that seemed to go happily and smoothly. Watching Amy and Hemma make love had felt like a panacea for her own emotional hurts.

  She curled up in the rocking chair and closed her eyes. Falling in love with Hemma hadn’t stopped her from dating, not at first. Once she accepted that Hemma would never look at her the way she looked at Amy, Marian had hoped someone else would eventually supplant Hemma. Even so, when Robyn Vaughn had used those oh-so-perfect moves to get Marian into bed on their first date, Marian had known Robyn would never be Hemma in her heart. She’d thought they could make a go of it, though. She’d hardly expected Robyn to be what Robyn was.

  The sound of Hemma’s voice made her open her eyes again, and she gazed at their window. Tears welling in her eyes washed prisms of light over the sight of Amy’s long arms around Hemma. It had seemed so perfect, their life. Maybe it was. But living through their lives had kept her from living her own. Duh, she thought. Like Dr.

  Phil wouldn’t have figured that out in two seconds.

  She was so tired and so hurt. She’d been thinking about Robyn too much, and after two years, she’d hoped Robyn would be forever out of her head. She could feel the box of Robyn Ruins almost speaking to her now, reminding her she’d never dealt with it. She’d had enough therapy before leaving Chicago to know that she would open the box “when the time was right.” Well, it’s not the right time, she thought bitterly.

  Hemma’s laugh flowed across the night and Marian dashed away the seeping tears. Rising, she pulled the window down to meet the sill and wearily made her way back to her own room, her own bed.